


Rawk A Bye

by miscellea



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Babyfic, M/M, TONY is going to need therapy, clint is surprisingly good with kids, maybe there's a group discount rate?, not mpreg, some swears, that kid is going to need therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscellea/pseuds/miscellea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Tony has a kid and that's not traumatizing AT ALL ---but between the funeral, 3 AM feedings, colic, diapers, the custody lawsuit, running his company, and -oh yeah-fighting crime he's starting to wear a little thin.</p><p>It's probably not the best time for Steve to realize that this is probably the best chance he'd going to have for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 'Baby Daddy' is such a harsh way of putting it...

So Tony Stark had a baby.

 

… and the Avengers only found out about it when War Machine showed up to a mission briefing instead of Iron Man. It was also kind of a horrible way to find out that Tony and Pepper had apparently broken up nearly a year prior and just didn’t bother to tell anyone about it.

 

“So wait, let me get this straight.” Clint was talking because in Tony’s absence apparently someone had to take up slack of being _unable to leave shit well enough alone_. “Stark had a kid? And you’re, what, covering for him while he takes maternity leave?”

 

Now Colonel Rhodes was actually a fairly relaxed individual unless Tony was around to pull his pigtails, but Steve had learned the hard way that the fastest way to get onto his shitlist was to talk trash about Tony Stark where he could hear it. “Tony has to take some time.” He said evenly. “I’m covering for him until he can get things under control. It’s been cleared with Fury.” The ‘and that’s all you need to know’ hung in the air between the two men like it was written in icicles.

 

“Welcome to the team, Colonel.” Steve said quickly, hoping to divert the conversation back into calmer and more relevant waters. “Tony’s had only good things to say about you. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

 

Fortunately, things fell into place relatively quickly. War Machine was a valuable asset although, having seen him in action, Steve was starting to understand why Tony tended to subside into incoherent frothing rage when Rhodes’ suit modifications came up in conversation. The Iron Man suit was a technological marvel of engineering whose impressive arsenal was almost tangential to its speed and maneuverability. War Machine’s suit was slow and clunky by comparison although he packed one hell of a punch.

 

After the mission was completed and the sentient flying insect horde had been shooed back through their inter-dimensional portal (seriously, _what the hell_ ) Steve found himself seated next to Colonel Rhodes on the transport home. The rest of the team had conspired to place Clint as far away from Rhodes as possible, which was fine because Steve honestly had some questions.

 

Still, they were probably going to have to wait because Rhodes frankly looked haggard when he pulled off his helmet and sank back in his net jump seat.

 

“Rough time, Colonel?” Steve guessed, but Rhodes just shook his head.

 

“Nah, it’s this thing with Tony. I feel for him, I do.” He turned a weary look on Steve. “So Fury didn’t tell you guys anything at all?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

He snorted. “Probably doesn’t want to think about it. The last week or so has been rough on everybody, but Tony’s been holding up like a champ. Guess he’s got to now.”

 

“Look, I realize that this is going to make me sound like an old fogey, but did this really come as a surprise to him?” Steve winced because that was _not_ how he wanted to sound, but he was also kind of tired of people in the 21 st century being shocked when sex occasionally resulted in _babies_.

 

“Tony’s careful.” Rhodey made a gesture with his index and middle finger. “Had the snip. Condoms, the whole nine yards, otherwise he’dve probably caught something that would have killed him long before the shrapnel got him.” He shrugged. “… but the procedure fails sometimes and Tony, he ended up with that one-in-a-hundred chance. It was a messed up situation, but they were handling it. Him and Vicky… that’s her name, Victoria, talked about it and she decided she wanted to have the baby. Not Tony, just the baby, which… you know, it was her call and you got to respect that. So they were going to work out this visitation thing and… and a trust fund, but then things went bad at the hospital and… well. Now Tony’s got a full time baby.”

 

“What do you mean; things went bad?” Steve tried to ignore the way his hand automatically clenched on his shield. Fortunately, vibranium was something even he couldn’t dent.

 

“Eh…” Rhodes looked up and frowned. “She died, Cap. No one’s sure why. Her heartbeat just faded away and nothing the doctors could do would fix it. Tony was listed as the father on the birth certificate so he’s got custody, but her parents are already lawyered up. That’s what gets me. This team… it’s been good for him. I’d hate to see him lose it because he was trying to do the right thing and it blew up in his face.”

 

Technically, Steve should have stayed in New York once the briefing was over and the team was dismissed, but… but nothing. Tony Stark was in Malibu alone with a five-day-old infant. Steve was on the very next plane and apparently the sentiment was shared because Natasha slid into the seat next to him shortly after he boarded. She met his scowl with a cool little smile.

 

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring Clint with you.” He groused. Bruce, at least, would stay home. He didn’t like air travel for obvious reasons and wouldn’t submit to it unless they were on the quinjet where everyone had guns and parachutes.

 

“I did, but he annoyed me while I was booking the tickets and somehow ended up in coach.” She batted her thick lashes at him, the very picture of innocence when she wanted to be. “No idea how that happened.”

 

Not for the first time, Steve made a mental note not to ever irritate Natasha in any way shape or form.

 

The flight was uneventful except for the part where Clint snuck into first class and ended up being evicted with extreme prejudice by one of the stewardesses. They piled into a cab upon arrival in Malibu (no one had bothered to check their luggage) and Natasha gave the driver directions to a house that Steve actually liked even better than the Stark mansion.

 

The mansion had been built and decorated in Steve’s day and technically that meant he ought to like it better, but he’d been raised in a coldwater flat in Brooklyn. Shining mahogany banisters and butler pantries were not things he associated with ‘home’. The Malibu house, as he privately thought of it, encapsulated everything he loved about modern architecture; huge windows, tons of natural light, open spaces, and a cheerful rejection of the notion that all houses had to be made of boxes and triangles. Even better, it was built out from the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean and… and… well, Steve was having serious thoughts about moving the Avengers out to California, let’s put it that way.

 

JARVIS greeted them quietly at the door with the admonishment, “Sir would like to inform all guests that if they wake the baby then he will kill everyone in sight and no court will ever convict him.”

 

“Well, I suppose that answers the question of how Stark’s handling fatherhood…” was Clint’s observation followed by a ‘thnk’ sound when Natasha swatted him upside the head, which Steve ignored because Hawkeye sort of had that coming.

 

The floor plan was open and the various common areas were delineated by changes in elevation. There wasn’t a whole lot of furniture beyond some interesting water features and a piano that had pride of place in front of a huge bank of windows overlooking the surf.

 

“If you look to your right, you will see the media center.” JARVIS blinked a light on and off next to a set of double doors off of the piano area. Lo and behold, Tony was sprawled on the huge kidney shaped sofa inside with a huddled lump on his chest as he blinked blearily into the sudden light.

 

It clearly took him a minute to identify them after which he let his head fall back down on the cushion. “Of course it’s you. Do me a favor, Cap, and put me out of my misery.”

 

“It’s a baby, Tony, not a supervillain.” Steve dropped his bag by the door and went to crouch next to the sofa. He hadn’t really arrived with a plan in place, but no plan survived contact with the enemy anyway. He squinted at the tiny lump on his friend’s chest; the baby’s sides moved in a reassuring rhythm even though his (her?) little face was smushed against Tony’s chest.

 

“Say that again when she wakes up and screams for another two hours.” He groaned and sat up, automatically cradling his daughter with one arm. “Did Fury send you to laugh at me? I’m pretty sure he actually threatened me with that when I called, but I might have made that up. It’s getting harder to tell.”

 

“Why does she scream?” Natasha held her hands out for the baby and Tony inspected her palms.

 

“She gets gas and she can’t burp or fart without help. You’d scream too.” He shook his head. “Sorry, Nat. You’re gonna need to wash up first if you came here on commercial air. It’s the whole immune system thing. If Vicky were around it’d be different…”

 

“No, of course. I understand.” In a rare move, Natasha actually ruffled Tony’s hair and retreated presumably to wash her hands and change her clothes in order to be deemed worthy of baby holding. She snagged Clint by the elbow on her way out, presumably to enforce the same treatment on him.

 

“Guess that means I can’t ask to hold her either, huh?” Steve tried for cheerful, but missed and landed on wistful instead. Not that he liked babies one way or the other, but having one in close proximity that wasn’t hidden under a metric ton of lace was stirring some latent instincts in the back of his head that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with. “This cutie got a name?”

 

“Oh my god, is there anything you don’t take in stride?” Tony bitched because he had no other settings. “Maria Rose Stark. Rosie.” He added as an afterthought. “So called because of the color of her entire head.” He paused and squinted at Steve. “Don’t look at me like that. I was busy shooting down options like ‘Rhriannon’, ‘Antoinette’, and ‘that charming word Mom heard in the hospital, wouldn’t Urea be an original name?’”

 

“You’re _kidding_ me.”

 

“I kid you not.” Tony sighed. “They had Vicky on the good stuff there towards the end. She couldn’t remember we’d already signed the paperwork. By then I was just agreeing with everything she said so she stayed calm and didn’t hurt. Shit, Steve, why’d you come? I asked Rhodey to cover for me so you all wouldn’t have to up sticks to Malibu.”

 

“Sounds like it was rough.” Steve thought very carefully about what to say next. “I’m sorry we weren’t there for you.”

 

Tony squinted at him in classic Tony ‘what the hell are you smoking?’ fashion. “I didn’t call you. It follows that you weren’t there. Actually, that’s a good question. Who do I have to thank for your presence now? Rhodey? Or was it Pepper because she was threatening…”

 

“Director Fury, actually.” Steve had to savor the expression on Tony’s face, like he’d bitten into a radioactive lemon. “War Machine just gave us the details. So… are you planning on staying in Malibu?”

 

“I don’t even know. Most of my ongoing research and business has been transferred to the New York location and it’ll be heinously expensive to move everything back where it was… although my local R&D guys just might throw a party. They were _pissed_ when I pulled up stakes and took my show on the road. Plus, there’s, you know, the massive custody battle my lawyers are currently fighting over Rosie here. Her grandparents aren’t fucking around. They want full custody, plus written guarantee that she’s my sole heir. That’s not even including what they want for child support.”

 

“They… what now?” Steve had sort of understood when Rhodes had mentioned something about a lawsuit. Rosie’s grandparents weren’t in a position to know Tony Stark the way the Avengers had come to and he could sympathize with their feelings if everything they knew about him came from the tabloids… but… they were bringing money into it?

 

“Yeah, Vicky warned me her parents were nuts and _hooo_ was she not kidding. I think they wanted her to make some kind of society marriage, which she was having none of. They were in the process of disowning her right up until… well. You know. Then they start screaming about how Rosie is all they have left of their precious child who I cruelly murdered with my wicked seed. They got nothing. Vicky left behind very specific wishes regarding Rosie’s custody. Their lawyers are trying to claim she wasn’t in her right mind, but the will is ironclad and _my_ lawyers live for this kind of stuff. Plus they cannot afford an extended legal battle with me of all people.”

 

“You know, Stark, sometimes I envy you being born into wealth and privilege.” Clint observed as he followed Natasha back into the room. “Then I realize everyone in your tax bracket is fucking insane and suddenly I’m glad I was born an impoverished orphan. Now hand her over. Some of us have actual experience with kids.”

 

Tony relinquished his daughter only with extreme skepticism, but contrary to all logic and reason Clint just settled her against his shoulder like an old pro. Even Natasha seemed impressed. Rosie didn’t so much as twitch as Clint jerked his chin towards the door. “All right. Stark: food, shower, sleep. Go. I got this. Cap, wanna make sure he doesn’t sneak off and build an airplane in the basement or something?”

 

“I did that ONCE, Barton.” Tony grumbled, but allowed Steve to help him to his feet. Frankly, the man looked awful and Steve had seen him after he’d managed to go 90 hours straight with no food, no sleep, and way too much Red Bull. However, he submitted easily enough when Steve put an arm around his ribcage and helped him to his feet –and that was actually alarming in its own right.

 

“C’mon you. Back up’s here and you can stand down.” Steve murmured in Tony’s ear.

 

“Yeah… yeah, okay. I could… sleep…” The admission was likely expensive in terms of pride, but Steve never had been the kind of guy to kick a man when he was down. He let it slide without comment.

 

It wasn’t hard to find Tony’s bedroom. Steve just looked for the part of the house that would get the best morning light and sure enough there it was; off the main area without much in the way of a division from the rest of the house ---and comprised mainly of windows, dear _god_. There was something psychologically revealing about the architecture of Tony’s house, although Steve probably wasn’t up to the task of divining exactly what.

 

“Oh look, my bed! Just drop me here and come back in a couple of days… or when Rosie starts crying again… so like, twenty minutes? Thirty?” Steve let Tony fall face-first onto the mattress. “Buy me time for an entire REM cycle and I will get you whatever you want. Cost is no opt… Cap? What are you… I can take off my own shoes, thanks.”

 

“Right. Sure you can.” Steve snorted and hauled Tony’s other shoe off. Huh, Ferragamos. Of _course_ they were. “Just sleep. One us will wake you up when there’s something to eat, all right?” Tony’s eyes were already closed though and Steve was pretty sure he hadn’t faked that snore.

 

Steve at back on his heels and shook his head ----then he took a cautious look over his shoulder, just to make sure he wasn’t in anyone’s line of sight before he got to his feet and leaned over the bed.

 

You’d think with all the product he used that Tony’s hair would be hard and prickly to the touch, but it was soft underneath Steve’s hesitant touch. He let out the breath he’d been holding.

 

Anthony Stark was not technically an attractive man… or he shouldn’t have been. His features were too sharp for real masculine beauty. Instead, Tony had this palpable aura that compelled everyone in range to look at him and only him. He could be standing quietly in the middle of a room doing absolutely nothing and still people turned towards him as though it were the only natural thing to do. Bucky’d had that same natural magnetism, although his had come in a more charming package.

 

…which was funny, since Steve had never once had a single inappropriate thought about Bucky, but Tony on the other hand…

 

Tony and Pepper had been together since long before anyone even tripped over Steve’s icy grave and they’d seemed… permanent, unshakable even. The idea that they were no longer together was almost eerie, but at the same time…

 

‘ _Drop it, Rogers_.’ He admonished himself and withdrew his hand. ‘ _This isn’t the time_.’

 

As it on cue, a thin reedy wail started up in the recesses of the house and Tony snorted awake. He cast about blindly before he caught onto the fact that the thing pinning him down was Steve’s hand in the middle of his chest.

 

“Rosie…?”

 

“She’s good, Tony. We’re handling it. Now sleep.”

 

“… but…”

 

“ _Sleep_.”

 

“Fiiine.” Tony yawned and rolled over dragging the blanket he’d been laying on over his body so that he ended up looking like an enormous black brocade burrito with bare feet sticking out one end.

 

Steve chuckled and shook his head as he turned to go. JARVIS flicked the lights off in his wake as he left to go manage his teammate’s babysitting efforts. It couldn’t be that much trouble. After all, how much trouble could one baby cause?

 

… famous last words, as it turned out.


	2. No Point in Closing the Barn Door...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleep is good. Extortion attempts are not.
> 
> Tony has to start fatherhood as he means to go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent way too much time reading up on babies for this fic, then I had to go and bring in legal drama... more research in my future, I suppose.

The sun was up when Tony jerked awake the second time. It took a minute to try and figure out where the hell he was and why he was rolled up in a blanket like some kind of clichéd kidnapping victim… and for one horrible, terrible second his brain refused to boot properly and he was convinced that he was back in that cave, cold and sweltering by turns, in-between turns at the dunking trough while Yinsen had to watch and… soft music interrupted the downward spiral of his thoughts. It was nothing special, just random melodious chimes…

 

Tony took a deep breath as he finally remembered when and where he was. “Thank you, JARVIS.”

 

“You are welcome, sir. Shall I start a shower for you?”

 

“Yeah… shower’s good. Anybody else up?” Tony pushed himself upright and swung his feet to the floor, reassured by the smooth wood floor beneath his feet. Stone floors gave him trouble sometimes. Tile too, but not as often. He wiggled his toes, letting the texture reassure him where sound and vision sometimes failed.

 

“Agents Romanova and Barton are still asleep. Captain Rogers is taking his turn with the young mistress. She had a restless night, but quieted down some few hours ago. I believe she had a touch of colic, sir.”

 

“Colic again? Poor kiddo.” He shook his head, stripping off as he headed towards the bathroom. “Any sign the probiotic stuff is helping?”

 

“It’s too soon to tell, sir. She fell asleep 5% faster than her current average, however the deviation is within tolerance. It will take longer to verify if this indicates any significant lasting change.”

 

“Keep tracking it. God, I look awful.” Tony scowled at his reflection in the mirror, which didn’t really help things any. A good solid night’s sleep had done him a world of good, but if the smudges underneath his eyes were any indication then his sleep debt was far from paid off. Oh well. Sleep was for the weak. At least he already had a tolerance for sleep deprivation. Still, he could do with a shave and possibly some clothes that Rosie hadn’t spit up on. A fresh target wouldn’t hurt her at all.

 

He emerged from his bedroom some thirty minutes later fully groomed for the first time in… god, since Vicky called him to say she might _possibly_ be going into labor, but she wasn’t sure. Had it really been a week?

 

Rosie’s dulcet shrieks greeted him as he wandered into the kitchen. Steve was hanging out at the table with Rosie curled against his shoulder. He looked… well, frankly he looked disgustingly well rested and groomed for someone who hadn’t actually been to bed yet if JARVIS was to be believed.

 

“Morning, Cap.” He held out his hands, making a little ‘hurry it up’ gesture with his fingers. “Hand over the baby.”

 

“This is not a hardship. I can’t figure out why she’s crying. She won’t take the bottle, I can’t coax a burp out of her, and her diaper is brand new.” Steve groaned and transferred Rosie over to Tony’s waiting arms. Her cries died off as she locked onto the pattern in his shirt and faded into the odd sort of squeaks and gurgles newborns were prone to. Ah, so those had been cries of _boredom_. Tony made a note to look into baby toys that could keep up with his apparently gifted offspring.

 

“Huh, guess she missed you.” Steve had this goofy grin on his goofy face, which Tony sort of resented on principle.

 

“It’s just the change of scenery.” Tony hitched his daughter around and turned her so she could see whatever was in front of him. He’d always wondered why parents kept doing that and now he knew; a bored baby was a loud baby. He hadn’t thought he’d ever miss those first few days when Rosie slept around the clock. Her higher thought processes were starting to come online and he suspected she was absorbing information like a tiny sponge. “She habituates to new stimulation like you wouldn’t believe.”

 

“… uh, could you say that again in English?”

 

“She gets bored very easily.” JARVIS translated. “However she is mostly immobile and cannot look at something else when she gets tired of the current view. This is common to all infants, but her rate of habituation and her preference for new stimuli over familiar ones are all indications of high intelligence.”

 

There was a tiny smile playing around Steve’s mouth as JARVIS spoke that Tony didn’t like the looks of, especially as it looked like he was doing his level best to hide it.

 

“So, wait. She’s been fussing because we haven’t been _entertaining_ her properly?” Steve finally broke and started laughing. It took him a few seconds to get it under control. “Wow, Tony, she really _is_ your kid.”

 

“Hardy har, Rogers. Very funny. Go shower or something. Sleep.”

 

“Nah, I’m good for a while yet. Serum.” Steve ran his hand along his jaw and the corners of his mouth. “Might shave though. Getting a bit scraggly.”

 

Tony squinted at Steve’s face. He looked perfectly… wait, no… some thin golden hairs clustered over the corners of his mouth like a very caucasian _fu machu_ and he was sporting a sort of a patchy bit of peach fuzz there underneath his lower lip. Tony cocked an eyebrow. As a man whose 5 o’clock shadow tended to show up around 2, that seemed like a pretty pathetic showing. “Don’t know why you’re bothering. Hey, wasn’t the serum supposed to fix stuff like that?”

 

Steve made a face. “Yeah, it did. The sad part is that I couldn’t even manage this much way back when. Could be worse. I could be Clint. I saw him try to grow a beard for an undercover op last summer. You were in Shanghai at the time. Two months in and all he had to show for it was a couple of scraggly patches of hair that weren’t even symmetrical. Natasha made him give it up as a bad job and they had to redo his entire cover.”

 

“Hah!” That made him feel a bit better. Schadenfreude was a wonderful, wonderful thing. He tensed as Rosie made those first coughing whines that heralded her patented howl of the damned and he turned so she could stare at the stove, which did the trick. “Yeah, definitely looking into advanced placement baby toys.” Maybe he could adapt his holoCAD program? Maybe if he set up some colorful shapes and animations, it’d hold her for longer. Maybe add in some sounds…

 

“Hey, Tony. If you want to go back to bed for a while, I can take her. I still have some time on the clock so to speak and I heard your alarm go off.” Steve offered.

 

“My what… oh, uh, that wasn’t my alarm.” Tony shrugged a shoulder and carried Rosie over to the window. There were some birds out on the ledge for her to stare at. “I didn’t know where I was when I woke up. It’s just leftovers from… well, you know. JARVIS plays random noises to shake me out of it whenever he catches it happening.”

 

One of the good things about Steve (all of the Avengers actually) was that he didn’t need to ask what Tony meant by ‘you know’. They all had a ‘you know’ in their respective pasts and knew when not to push, even if they didn’t have the details. As Captain Steve probably knew more about Tony’s ‘you know’ than anyone on the team, but he doubted SHIELD had the whole story. They’d never gotten the debriefing they wanted out of him so his file contained speculation at best.

 

“Does it help?”

 

Tony glanced over, but Steve didn’t look like he was humoring the crazy guy. He actually looked interested. Well, maybe that wasn’t so surprising. It was a relevant subject for him after all. He was seventy years out of place and unlike Tony he actually wanted to be in the place he’d been taken away from. So instead of smarting off, Tony just shrugged.

 

“Scent works better, but I never set up a system for it here in Malibu. I made this thing, it’s sort of like a diffuser hooked into the house system. It’s loaded with different essential oils so that JARVIS can randomize it. Most anything works as long as it’s not a scent my brain can associate with something bad.” He paused. “I can set one up for you, if you want.”

 

“Thanks, but no. Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think you could make it work. There aren’t a lot of smells in 2012 that weren’t around in 1940.”

 

“Well, now see that’s just a challenge.” Tony smirked at him and Steve rolled his eyes. “JARVIS, start compiling a potentials list for me.”

 

“I live to serve, sir.” JARVIS replied. “Miss Potts left a message for you regarding the legal situation. May I suggest you review it in private?”

 

Well, that wasn’t ominous in the slightest – _not_. Steve looked pensive when Tony handed Rosie off to him. She looked even tinier than usual engulfed in Captain America’s enormous arms as he cradled her in his elbow. Lucky for Steve, her eyes were drooping so Tony didn’t feel too bad about leaving her with him.

 

JARVIS had the message queued up in the ornate home office that Tony rarely used and had, up until a year ago, been Pepper’s private domain. Back in the day it had been decorated along the same bright and airy lines as the rest of the house, but Tony’d been forced to redecorate when three months out of their breakup he still found him poking his head in on sheer reflex to ask Pepper about something or other. Now the place was sort of a butt-ugly retro 1960s monstrosity, but he’d successfully broken the association.

 

“Maybe I’ll have it redone for Rosie as a romper room when she gets older.” He murmured half to himself as he took a seat in the uncomfortable orange mod chair. “JARVIS, start the playback.”

 

Pepper’s face lit up the screen. On the surface she looked good, but there were dim shadows under her eyes showing through the concealer. She’d been with him in the hospital when the news came and then again later when those human-form _vultures_ showed up at Vicky’s funeral. She was the one who’d shoved him into the back of the limo with an armful of squalling baby and told him to concentrate on the important things.

 

“Tony, I’ve gotten off the phone with legal.” She smiled at it, but it had that slightly forced edge to it that meant she wasn’t really happy but was about to deliver positive news. “The Carharts’ lawyers have approached us with a settlement offer.”

 

“ _Settlement_? Extortion offer, more likely; pay us X and we’ll go away.” He muttered. It wasn’t unexpected. Vicky’s family was old money, but the Carhart coffers weren’t as deep as some might believe. He’d known from the beginning that it was all going to boil down to money eventually.

 

“They want _ten million dollars_ to go away. If we agree, then they’re willing to sign an agreement stating they will never interfere with you or Rosie ever again.” Pepper’s image paused. “Tony, I don’t think we should take it. Legal is practically foaming at the mouth. This doesn’t have anything to do with Rosie’s welfare and I don’t think we should encourage this sort of behavior.”

 

“ _Wow_ , I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to overhear that…” Natasha commented.

 

“JARVIS, pause.” Tony turned back towards Natasha who was standing just inside the room, leaning against the door frame. Judging by her barefeet and the overlarge tshirt she was wearing (one he was pretty sure belonged to Clint), she’d just gotten up to tap Steve out of Baby Duty.“You know, I’m pretty sure I locked that door.”

 

“Uh.. _spy_?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So. How are you going to handle that? Even _you_ don’t have ten million dollars just lying around.”

 

“No, but I could get it if I needed to.” Tony shrugged. “I’m not going to --can’t, really. This sort of thing is like paying a ransom. If you do it once…”

 

“Then it’s open season for every other opportunist out there. I follow.” Natasha sounded approving, but it was hard to tell with her sometimes. Her default expression was ‘bored’ and she didn’t change it up very often. “… but there’s also a chance they might win custody. Your public image isn’t really ‘father’ material and you know they’re going to bring the media into it.”

 

“Excellent! I’m overdue for a public spectacle.” Tony looked back at Pepper’s pensive frozen expression. She, of all people, knew that things were about to get ugly… but she wanted to fight it out anyway. He felt his mouth settle into a harsh line. Poor Pepper. She deserved so much more than he’d been able to give her. “Rosie’s going to be a media target no matter what I do. I’m not going to make her a physical one too and that means drawing the line here and now.”

 

Natasha did smile then and padded over to press a kiss against his cheek. “Good for you, Tony.” She patted his shoulder. “Don’t forget; you aren’t alone. We’re all in this with you.” She paused, thoughtful. “Although ---I wouldn’t tell Cap about the settlement offer. He’s already halfway in love with your little bundle of noise and he might take it as inspiration to do something stupid.”

 

“Ha. Him, Happy, Rhodey, and about four male maternity ward nurses.” He found a grin somewhere and it almost felt natural, like he wasn’t suddenly responsible for one tiny impossibly fragile life and woefully unprepared for it. “She’s got heartbreaker genes on both sides. The world won’t know what hit it.”

 

“Whatever. Now come back to the kitchen and let’s talk about breakfast…”

 

Tony let Natasha haul him out of the study and into the common area, which was flooded with the morning light and the familiar sound of voices in the distance.

 

‘I should have told them.’ Tony realized, in a rare flash of insight. He’d just assumed that… well, never mind what he’d assumed.

 

For once in his life, he’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the Carharts' actions seem insane that's because they're supposed to. If they seem a little flat and stereotypical so far, please bear with me. :)


End file.
